Quilted map memorializes city's homicide victims

Lourdes Arias, one of the creators of "Untitled (Homicide Quilt)," touches the work Saturday at the Craft/Work exhibit at Beauty & Brawn gallery at 3501 W. Fullerton Ave., Chicago. (Nuccio DiNuzzo, tribune photo)

Lindsay Evans' eyes gravitated to the lower end of the 4-foot-by-6-foot piece of fabric, where the names were so abundant in some neighborhoods that they were stitched on top of each other in a barely legible confluence of Chicago's violence.

"You can see the hurt and confusion in it," said Evans, 26, a graphic-design student from Philadelphia.

Hers is the desired reaction for the group of artists who created "Untitled (Homicide Quilt)," a quilted map of Chicago with the names of each of the city's homicide victims from last year stitched into the neighborhood where a life ended.

"I really hope it sparks conversation and awareness," said Monica Fuentes, 32, a Pilsen resident and one of 15 artists who worked on the quilt. "It's showing an unfortunate reality."

The public got its first look at the project Saturday night at a Craft/Work exhibit at Beauty & Brawn gallery, 3501 W. Fullerton Ave., in the city's Logan Square neighborhood.

The quilt is the brainchild of Craft/Work co-founders and artists Nora Renick-Rinehart and Rachel Wallis, who worked with a group of about 14 artists, many from a craft group called El Stitch y Bitch, for about three months.

"Last summer, with the national conversation on Chicago's violence, we wanted to do something that touched on that," Wallis said. Using RedEye Chicago's online homicide tracker, Wallis compiled a list of 415 homicide victims, their ages, neighborhoods and how they were slain.

Some neighborhoods, such as West Ridge and Lincoln Square, bear few to no names. But others, such as South Shore or Englewood, have 20 to 30.

Lourdes Arias, 46, stitched 21 names into the West Englewood patch, among other neighborhoods. Some were more difficult than others, she said — because of the stitch work and the victim's age.

"I feel we're bringing light to something that was dark," she said. "It's so amazing, the concentrated areas and then some with no names. And why is that? There's an imbalance here."

For Fuentes, working on the quilt brought a sense of accomplishment and a sense of sadness. Stitching the names was "when the meaning really hit."

"It was a bittersweet project," she said.

Many in the crowd Saturday lingered for several minutes in front of the quilt; some ran their fingers over the names.

Pullman resident Darrell Cannon, 63, called it "tragic, but beautiful."

"When artists do things like this that capture what's happening, maybe — just maybe — it'll impact someone to say we've got to do something about this," he said.